Fantasy and Fact
by theCalliope
Summary: Worf and Dax’s first encounter. Takes place during Looking for Par’Mach in all the Wong Places.
1. Chapter 1

Worf's breath was heavy, and he was sweating as he picked up the blade. For an instant, he regretted not killing Thopok, but he restrained himself. The Lady was waiting. He went down on one knee in front of her, and held out the sword. She tried to hide it, but her eyes betrayed how pleased she was. They were beautiful eyes, as deep and blue and mysterious as a lake at dusk. Worf burned with desire. The eyes urged him on.

She took the blade and handed it to her servant. Then she dismissed the other one. Worf's anticipation grew with the fading footsteps. When the doors closed, he heard yelling, and her hands closed around his throat. He basked in the strength of her fingers. I could die like this, he thought, and for a moment, it seemed like there was all the pleasure in the world, looking up into that beautiful face while she squeezed the breath from within him. Then he broke her grip.

As he clasped her throat, she staggered. His heart was pounding and he was riding on a wave of adrenaline. This was incredible. Amazing. As opened his mouth to scream in the glory, the throat in his hands melted, and the empty holosuite appeared before him. He felt drained. Devastated. He fought not to cry out in anger.

"Congratulations, you did it," Dax said curtly, and he quickly snapped out of his reverie. He tried to hide his disappointment as he turned towards her.

"What does she see in that parasite?" he demanded. He did not really expect a response. He felt frustrated; he had been so close to living his fantasy, but at the same time so far away.

His fantasy. The fantasy. It had started as a teenager, when he realized that he had little chance of meeting a Klingon girl on Earth. So he had concoted a reason, as set of circumstances under which he might meet one. K'Tiya, he imagined, was being forced by her dishonourable father to marry a man she did not love in order to gain political power for his house. Being a brave young girl, she chose to flee as opposed to acting without honour. Somehow, she had made her way to Earth, and somehow, she had met Worf. And, of course, as soon as they had met, they fell in love.

In the time between sleep and wakefulness, Worf had spent hours perfecting K'Tiya's appearance. One night, she had blond hair, the next night it was black. Her eyes got progressively darker until they were the perfect shade of green. Her build was thick, but not overlarge. Worf wanted her to be the sort of girl who thought things out, not a spoiled brat who always got her way though force.

The next step in the fantasy was that K'Tiya's father found her. Or sometimes it was her uncle. It was so much easier to imagine an uncle being cruel to his niece than a father being cruel to his daughter. K'Tiya, of course, would state that she would rather die than leave Worf. Then, they would go to the homeworld to resolve the dispute.

Once home, a brave and valiant fight would ensue. The relative, of course, would be a worthy opponent, perhaps even a decorated warrior, but in the end, love and honour would conquer all and the teenage Worf would disarm him. Then, poised to kill, he would hear K'Tiya cry out for her beloved family member. At this point, Worf usually pretended it was the father, as he liked to think that any girl he loved would have no qualms about slaying an evil uncle. Hearing the girl's cries, he would spare the man, drop to his knees and give the weapon to his daughter. She would return the blade on the condition that he accepted Worf into the family, and followed his good example in restoring the family to honour. The father would agree, and leave the room defeated but ready to make a fresh start. Hot sex followed.

Worf sighed. Now Dax was yelling angrily about something. She had been doing a lot of that in the past few days. She just didn't seem to understand that unlike her, he did not have tonnes of opportunities for romance, and it was upsetting to see one pass. Opportunity. He thought he heard that word in there somewhere. Oh well. Dax was probably just upset to have the attention directed away from her for a change.

"He would have to be blind not to see it!" he retorted, and turned around. He didn't want her to see his face.

"Today is a good day to die!" he heard Dax yell. Or at least he though he did. Stunned, he turned around.

"Today is a good day to die," she repeated, sounding angry. For the first time all week, he understood why. This could work, he though quickly. It wasn't what he had been looking for, or dreaming of, but maybe it had a fleeting chance of working anyway. He smiled. She was very attractive when angry.

"The day is not over yet, Lukara," he bellowed.

"Would you kill me too?"

Worf paused. It didn't seem appropriate to invite her to kill him if she didn't want him, seeing that he had been pursuing another woman two minutes ago. He bared his teeth and clashed his blade against her a couple of times while he thought.

"I smell the burning of your blood," he said quickly.

"No, the fire is all your doing," she replied.

At this, he moved to disarm her. He thought he had succeeded until he felt the floor hit his back, and Dax's hands tighten around his throat. Pushing them away, he throttled her. She struggled and dug her nails into his wrists. It was strangely seductive. He pushed harder, and finally, she bowed her head. Worf smiled. The day was not over yet. This was going to be good.


	2. Chapter 2

Worf wanted to get the scent of her. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to force her against the wall and touch her all over. She was growling and running her face along his body, nipping at any flesh she could find. It was unbelievably arousing. When she got to his face, Dax showed her teeth and started growling louder. He returned the gesture.

Swiftly, he pushed Dax off of him and stood up. She gasped as she fell, but then followed. He tried to grab her hand, but she got it free, and slapped him across the face. He was impressed. This one, he thought, will need rougher handling than any of the others. It excited him immensely.

Snarling, he grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her struggling body against the wall as hard as he could. He removed her shirt while she was still winded. Shoving his face between her breasts, he inhaled her scent. It egged him on. He pulled open her pants, and shoved his hand inside. She felt smooth and moist. He hardened. He wanted her. Now.

As Worf removed her pants, he felt a sharp tug at his hair and a scratch at his face. It took him a moment to realize she had drawn blood. She's vicious, he thought, gloriously vicious. Barely thinking, he dug his teeth into her shoulder, and he heard her moan. Blood ran down her breasts. He licked it off.

Worf felt Dax's hands clawing at his pants. He tilted his head back and groaned as she went faster and faster. Finally, she unfastened his belt and pulled his pants off. As she did, she ran her nails down his thighs, leaving welts. He howled, and knew he couldn't hold back any longer. Not with her. Not with her fierce nature and her beautiful body. Not with the scent of her arousal and her blood in the air.

He tried to lift her up and lower her to the floor, but she resisted. He tried again, but she just slapped him and snarled.

"What do you think I am," she demanded, "Some human who will go down if you beg hard enough? "

With that, Dax broke away and huffed across the room. She turned to him and spat,

"I think human women have made you soft! If you want me, conquer me."

Anger at this accusation surged within him. If she wanted it, she could have it. Walking up to her, he slapped her across the face, and then pushed her by the shoulder. She staggered but stayed standing. Baring her teeth, she yelled out in Klingon. Obscene things. Insulting things. Seductive things. Worf burned with shame and desire.

He seethed. How dare she accuse him of being weak. He would show her. He would be the strongest lover she ever had. He strode up to her calmly, and began to push her. Again. And again. And again. Finally, she lost balance, and he picked her up and threw her to the floor. She groaned. He spread her legs and jumped on top of her.

"You are incredible," he snarled as he thrust himself inside of her. Dax's face hardened into a pout as he pressed on. This pleased him immensely. The other women he had been with had screamed and screamed and screamed as he pressed his huge member inside of them. He liked that she could take it on.

She was so tight. It was wonderful. Every thrust engulfed him in a wave of pleasure. He emitted a low growl every time he hit the mark. He felt he could come any moment, but he held back and went slowly.

Dax began to breathe more heavily. Worf could smell her sweating and feel her getting wetter.

"Harder, faster," she whispered, and he obliged.

He went deeper and deeper and faster and faster. Her breathing turned to moans and she clawed onto him like an animal. He kept thrusting, and she engulfed him, whimpering and convulsing. He did not relent.

Dax let out a yelp, and Worf knew she was on the edge. He pounded as hard as he could, and he felt her bite down on his shoulder as she fought to keep from screaming. Then, he felt her clamp down, shaking, on his cock even tighter, and he knew he could go on no longer. He let out a scream of triumph as stream after stream of his stuff filled her.

Slowly regaining his senses, Worf lifted Dax up, and rolled her on top of him.

"I hope I did not injure you too badly," he said.

"I'll let you know in a minute," she replied breathlessly, but she smiled. That was a good sign.

"I should not have lost control when you taunted me," he continued.

"But I wanted you to lose control. I don't want you to have to hide anything from me."

"You know you could have gotten yourself killed," Worf replied. He meant it as a joke. He hoped she took it that way.

Later, Worf wondered how he could have been so blind. How he could have not noticed how attractive she was. How much they had in common. How obvious she was being about her attraction to 

him. He was beginning to think that he would never get that ideal Klingon woman, but more importantly, he was starting think he would be okay with that.

Worf felt so guilty about injuring Dax that he kept promising to do whatever she wanted in bed.

"Kissing," she had replied. "Let's try kissing."

Kissing wasn't a Klingon thing. Truth be told, it wasn't really a Trill thing, either, but Dax had seen enough Terran holoplays to think it was really romantic.

"Think about it," she said, "You can be walking down the street, and have a fit of passion and just start kissing."

Worf agreed to try it, although he hoped she didn't expect him to do it in public. Secretly, he was glad to be with someone who didn't think kissing was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What do you want to try now that we've perfected kissing?" Dax asked a few weeks later. Worf thought 'perfected' was too strong a word, usually after a few minutes they move to biting or touching, but at least they had given it a fair shot.

"Whatever you want it okay with me," he responded, a little bit too embarrassed to think about it.

"You've been saying that for three weeks," she countered, "There must be something. I won't be shocked. I promise."

He thought about it. He wondered how she felt about damsels in distress, swordfights, and killing evil uncles.


End file.
